


all your wrath and cutting beauty

by ohmcgee



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: Frottage, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:45:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“It’s colder than Santa’s balls out here. How do you rich fucks even stay warm in this hell hole?”</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>“I think you remember,” Bruce says and Hal almost wishes he’d kept playing the freaky silent card. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	all your wrath and cutting beauty

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: DCU, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne, Hal is not at all used to Gotham temperatures. Bruce warms him up.
> 
> More to come. Maybe. Hopefully.

Hal startles when he feels the tight grip on his shoulder and turns his head, wincing slightly, to see Bruce standing over him, smiling the kind of smile that makes small children wet their pants. Hal knew he’d lose his shit when he found out he was here, if only to give him the tried and true paranoid rant about League members socializing in the same space and secret identities, blah blah fucking blah. 

“Hal, isn’t it?” He asks, laying on the charm like a fucking used car salesman. Hal honestly hates it when he gets like this. He already wants to take a shower to wash off the sleaze. “So glad you could make it tonight.”

“Oh well, you know,” Hal says, stabbing a piece of veal with his fork and pulling it off with his teeth. “I’d rather be flipping burgers at home, but Drew dragged me here.”

He smiles back at Bruce, washes his steak down with the complimentary red wine. 

“Drew,” Bruce says slowly and the man next to Hal turns in his chair and looks up at Bruce, immediately stands up to shake his hand and introduce himself. 

“Drew Thornton,” he says. “I’m sure you get this all the time, but it is honestly a pleasure to meet you. The work you are doing for the underprivileged in this city is just unprecedented. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to make a contribution myself.”

“And we thank you,” Bruce says. “Every little bit helps. I know it must not be easy to afford these fundraisers on a teacher's salary.”

“Fucking prick,” Hal mutters under his breath, but Drew doesn’t even pick up on the slight, just nods and takes his seat, goes back to his conversation with the man next to him on public housing. 

“Enjoy your meal,” Bruce says, glaring daggers through Hal before swaggering out of the room again. 

 

: : :

 

After a few hours Hal gets bored of following Drew around and listening to politicians talk in circles and finds a balcony to hide out on. It’s fucking freezing out, but at least he doesn’t feel like he’s suffocating anymore and the fresh air is definitely better than choking on old lady perfume and the stink of old money. 

He’s on his second cigarette when the doors open and Bruce walks through them, pink lipstick smeared across his cheek. Hal glances back once, then looks back out at the city. He thinks about blowing smoke directly into Bruce’s face just to see what he’ll do. 

Bruce doesn’t do anything, which has always been the most infuriating thing about him. He just walks up to the railing and stands there, hands in his pockets, completely, frustratingly silent. They stand there together, Hal smoking and watching the cars below them -- they look like the tiny hot wheels cars his nephew plays with from up here -- for Hal doesn’t know how long. The silence start to itch at him behind his ribs. 

“Jesus mother of _fuck_ ,” he finally says, flicking his cigarette off the side and rubbing his hands up and down his arms. “It’s colder than Santa’s balls out here. How do you rich fucks even stay warm in this hell hole?”

“I think you remember,” Bruce says casually and Hal almost wishes he’d kept playing the freaky silent card. Bruce is _looking_ at him now and Hal wants another cigarette or ten. “What are you doing here, Hal?”

“It’s called a date,” Hal says, wrapping his arms around himself when the wind picks up. “When one person likes another person they take them places. Buy them things. Sometimes they even show them affection. I understand it’s a difficult concept for you..”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Bruce says, acting like Hal’s words haven’t cut through him worse than the freezing winds. “Someone might --”

“Save it,” Hal says. “I’ve heard it before. Look, he’s pretty and he bribed me with free booze. I didn’t know it was going to be in Gotham until it was too late to fucking back out or _trust me_ , I would have.”

Hal raises his hands to his mouth to blow into them and warm them up and Bruce shrugs out of his coat, offers it to him. Hal just laughs, sharp and brittle. “Not your boyfriend anymore, Bruce,” he snaps. “Not that I ever fucking was, right?”

He tries to slap Bruce’s arm out of the way, but Bruce catches his wrist and yanks him forward. “You said you weren’t angry.”

“I fucking lied,” Hal says. “How does it feel.”

Bruce’s mouth bruises Hal’s when it comes down on his. The kiss is punishing and hungry and he backs Hal up against the antique brick, dropping his coat on the ground as he reaches for Hal’s face and holds it between his hands, fucks his tongue down his throat. 

Hal doesn’t push him away like he should, but he does bite hard enough on Bruce’s lip that he tastes blood on his tongue, enough that Bruce pulls his head back for a moment to glare at him. 

They share the same breath for a moment, a moment where Bruce waits for Hal to tell him to fuck off, to stop, but Hal doesn’t want that and they both know it, so Bruce dives back in. 

Hal’s shitty at being angry. He’s shitty at holding onto pretty much any emotion except for this: _want._ He wants Bruce so fucking bad. He wants to punch him in his face for fucking with him, wants to drop down on his knees and choke on his cock, wants to scream and yell and tell him how much he hates him, how much he wants him, how much of an asshole he is. 

He gets his hands in Bruce’s hair and then Bruce is grabbing him around the waist, lifting Hal up and Hal’s legs wrap around him instinctively and then, _god_ , Bruce’s cock is rubbing right up against his and everything goes quiet. 

All Hal can hear is Bruce’s rough, ragged breaths next to his ear, the sound of his own heart beating in his temples. Air rushes out of Bruce’s mouth with each thrust against him and Hal digs his fingers into Bruce’s shoulder for leverage, pushes back as much as he can. 

They’re hardly hidden. There are drapes hung across the doors leading out to the balcony, but if anyone opened the doors they’d walked right out onto them, dry humping through their clothes like fuck-hungry teenagers. 

Hal doesn’t think about Drew, sweet, kind, and compassionate Drew, mingling downstairs, talking about his plans to save the world. He doesn’t think about how good Drew could be for him, how normal and stable and well-adjusted he is. 

He thinks about how he wants Bruce’s teeth on his throat, Bruce’s hands on his ass, Bruce’s fingers in him, spreading him open. He wants Bruce to bend him over the railing and tongue him open. He wants everybody to _see._

Bruce, as if he can read Hal’s mind, digs his fingers into Hal’s ass then, drags his knuckles down the crease of it and Hal shudders, his cock twitching and leaking inside his pants.. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Hal hisses out. “Do not make me sit in my own come for the rest of the night, you fucking prick.”

“You would though,” Bruce rumbles next to his ear, still grinding his dick against Hal’s. “You would come just like this, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck you,” Hal spits out and then Bruce is dropping him to his feet, just like that. 

He steps back and checks his reflection in the glass, tries to straighten his hair up somewhere Hal's’ hands had been in it. 

Hal can’t even imagine what he looks like and he has a fucking date to go back down to. 

“Why,” Hal says harshly. “Why did you _do_ that?”

“Because I wanted to,” Bruce says. “And because so did you.”

He picks his jacket up off the ground and slides it back on, dusting it off before giving Hal one last look and heading back inside.


End file.
